Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity
by Covalent Bond
Summary: The letters, FBI, are an acronym for Federal Bureau of Investigation, but they are also stand for the motto of the organization: Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity. Booth is an honorable man who personifies the FBI motto, but standing up for his principles has never been harder than it is right now. Episode tag and Spoilers for Secret in the Proposal.
1. Fidelity

**Author's Note:** This has never happened to me before...

First, that I have a reputation (and that's never good, LOL). Second, that said reputation is why Razztaztic tackled me on twitter and made a special request. She shouted out (and I quote): "That last scene in 9.01, when Booth looks ready to break if she leaves? I need you to fill in those blanks."

So here I go with spackle and plaster, hoping I'm filling in the blanks Razz had in mind.

This is 100% Booth POV, told in three parts.

Episode tag for Secret in the Proposal.

* * *

~Q~

The letters, _FBI_, are an acronym for Federal Bureau of Investigation, but they are also stand for the motto of the organization: _Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity_. Booth is an honorable man who personifies the FBI motto, but standing up for his principles has never been harder than it is right now.

~Q~

* * *

This has never happened to him before.

He's never left his cell phone for so long that the battery died. He's never left his partner for so long that she stopped believing in him. He's never faced the silent stares and baffled questioning from his (still for now but not much longer)-friends, nor the loud _slam!_ of violently hung up telephones when he tries to talk to former friends.

He's never felt so alone.

Even when his feet were being pounded into bony pulp in an Iraqi prison, at least he had the groaning misery of fellow prisoners of war to keep him company.

Special Agent Seeley Booth disengages his cell phone from the charger and turns it back on, noting four missed calls, one voice mail and one text message. They are all from Bones, his partner, calls he missed starting around 19:30 hours last night and the last one arriving around 21:15. He deletes them all without checking their contents, because exposing himself to more shame just seems like masochism at this point and he's not into that.

When he catches up to his partner at their next crime scene, Dr. Temperance Brennan is speaking to her boss (and his old friend) Cam, but Brennan falls silent and avoids his eyes as soon as he comes to stand beside her. He tries to keep it light and friendly when he greets her. "Hi, Bones."

There is a long pause before her single, answering rebuke, and what guts him is the hollow sadness that frames the words. "I tried to call you earlier." They both know she means last night, but at least she doesn't say that part out loud in front of Cam. What goes on between them isn't confined to just them so much these days (_everyone_ has an opinion) which is all the more reason to appreciate her partial discretion.

"Yeah, you know, I forgot to charge my phone." That is partly true. He leaves the phone in his office whenever he wants to slip off the grid somewhat which is why he missed her calls at the time she made them. Last night he'd needed to talk to someone so badly that he'd gone to his former priest and confessor, Aldo Clemons, leaving the phone alone for so long that the battery had in fact died and he'd only discovered it this morning. He's telling the truth but he knows it looks bad.

Brennan glances at him very briefly, her eyes flashing a sorrowed reproach. "Christine wanted to talk to her Daddy."

She has hit him where it will hurt the most, both in reminding him that he hasn't seen his daughter since the previous morning, and in the implied message that if not for Christine, Brennan wouldn't have called him at all. If she were anyone else he might be tempted to think she's done it on purpose but he knows her. Knows she wouldn't be that deliberately cruel.

At the same time, her soft accusation reveals how little she reciprocates with a matching faith in him. And that has never happened to them before.

~Q~

Cam leans over to advise in a whisper that he's about to lose Brennan forever, a fact of which he is excruciatingly aware. All he can do is snarl back, "Mind your own business, Camille!"

And another friend is lost. She walks away.

He leaves them to extract mangled remains from the HVAC while he goes inside the hotel to find the manager.

An hour later Bones still won't look at him when she comes to find him in the victim's hotel room. Only there to announce her imminent departure, Brennan assures him the entire air conditioning apparatus is on its way to the lab and then she is ready to flee the scene. "You need me for anything?" And the subtext is clear: she hopes not.

She suggests the FBI forensics unit to help him sweep the room, something his pedantic partner has never been in favor of before.

The best and the brightest work at the Jeffersonian, she's infamously claimed more than once. For years, Brennan has insisted on directly supervising the collection of physical evidence from a crime scene but things have changed tremendously over the last few weeks. Now, she couldn't care less about working with him and in fact goes out of her way to avoid even seeing him unless it would be construed as blatant snubbing. It's even worse than those months when Zack was gone and Brennan seemed to manufacture excuses not to leave her lab and go out into the field with him. At least then, she was fully present with him on the occasions where he succeeded in getting her outside.

Now….

She stays at the window, avoiding him, shielding herself. They have grown increasingly unbalanced over the last three months but just during the last few days, they have both begun flailing so wildly that he knows a fall is coming. She is breaking away. Something has tipped the balance and she is falling off the edge.

"I need to get back to the lab," she tells him.

The only reason she doesn't leave right then is the faint whiff of Vodka that she detects on the gauzy curtains. She literally begins sniffing around the area, a fact that would have appalled him in their earliest days, amused him after that. Now it's a relief because it gives him another chance to speak to her.

"Listen, Bones. Um … about not answering the phone earlier…" He knows the missed phone calls are the most likely tipping point, knows she's falling away from him now because of that lapse. He knows, yet he can't tell her he's deliberately leaving his phone behind. She would ask why.

And he can't suggest Pelant in any way.

"I know you were lying." She won't look at him, but she doesn't have to. He can hear it, the low shaking rasp of betrayal. "And you didn't come home last night."

He's been away too much, he can see that now, but still, the implication of infidelity is impossible to miss. "I was working."

She shoots him a disgusted glare, contemptuous as she's pulling on a pair of rubber gloves so she won't have to contaminate herself with his falsehoods. Something about the Vodka corner has caught her attention, or maybe it's just the incipient argument. She isn't leaving yet, which gives him hope that he can undo the damage of forgetting to check his phone when he got back to the Hoover last night. One stupid little mistake can't be the end of them.

Angry at himself, at the situation, he tries to remind her of what she knows he's been doing. "I have my regular hours plus I'm trying to catch Pelant."

"Angela agrees. She says that you're lying, too."

And now he knows what's changed. Now he knows why they're breaking, why she's fallen away, and there's nothing he can do about it. She doesn't have him so she's turning to her best friend.

"Angela. Well, you know, Angela doesn't know everything." What is he supposed to do now, when her best friend is the one pointing suspicious fingers and he can't defend himself. He looks around the room, noting a television, a radio. It's paranoid to think that Pelant has prewired this room but that is the problem with that one phone call.

A simple mind game. Brilliant, really. One phone call is all it takes. One.

Pelant had described the park and people so thoroughly that Booth had no doubt Pelant was watching him in that one, single moment. He has no doubt that Pelant could, at any point in time, be watching him. Or maybe not. Maybe Pelant is on some tropical beach laughing his ass off while Booth's life crumbles into dust. And that is the lazy simplicity of it: Pelant doesn't have to do anything else because the seed of paranoia has already been planted during that _one_ damned phone call.

In any given moment Booth doesn't actually know if Pelant is watching, only that the _potential_ exists. And that terrifying potential is what tortures him and keeps him obedient. This is what it's like to be stalked: it's the unrelenting _fear_ that he's being watched even when he probably isn't. The helpless rage that drives him is dampened when he sees tears in her eyes as she tries to keep her mind on her task.

She thinks he's cheating on her.

And she's trying not to cry when she thinks he's lying to her.

How could this happen to them, that she has actually forgotten what kind of man he is? The only reason he's not angry is because he can see how much pain she's in now that she's lost her faith in him. Pelant can't be everywhere, Booth decides. He glances around nervously but takes the risk because he can't bear to see her crying. "I'd die for you."

Even though she doesn't look up or pause, he can see the faint stiffening of her shoulders when the words hit. He can see that she doesn't believe him.

"I love you." _God, please let her believe me._

But he doesn't think that prayer is going to be answered.

~Q~

His phone rings about an hour after Brennan leaves him at the victim's apartment (because she decides Sweets would make a better choice of partner). They have so many differences, she intones bitterly (so it must be no wonder he wants someone else).

It's not true: those differences are what he adores about her. She's Bones and he knows she's given him far more than he could ever give her (a well-controlled gambling addiction, a highly successful career, love, friendship, a daughter ... his very life). He loves her so much that he would gladly stop breathing if that would make her happy.

Booth answers the call halfheartedly. The voice is sympathetic. "Hey, man, how are you doing?"

And Booth is surprised. "Hodgins?"

"Yeah." There's an awkward pause while Booth waits for another blow and Hodgins wonders how to start. "Look you know I've been trying to stay out of it, right?"

"Doesn't look like that at the moment," Booth growls.

Hodgins puffs a tired breath, feeling all kinds of caught-in-the-middle, but he's called for a reason. He searches for the right words, the right tone, the right advice to give. "She's a scientist, you know."

Booth rolls his eyes.

"She's looking at the evidence, at the patterns, and right now the evidence is mounting up against you. It's making you look guilty." Though Booth can't see this, Hodgins glances uneasily out into the larger lab, hoping to avoid detection long enough to get his point across. "If you're innocent, you've got to give her evidence to the contrary."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that when your _wife_ is telling her..." He cuts off, knowing that snarling at Hodgins isn't in his best interest because the bug man is the only one who's giving him the benefit of the doubt. But it's true. Angela is feeding Brennan's fears and slamming a sledge hammer onto the wedge Pelant inserted between them. Angela is the one splitting them apart, one slithering blow at a time.

"I know. I ... I'm sorry. I'll talk to her, try to get her to back off."

"The damage is already done. She's accused me of lying."

Hodgins winced, wanted to stay out of it, but knew he'd have to defend his own wayward wife. "I'm going to try to say this as nicely as I can. Just try not to take it personally."

"Take what personally?" What could be more personal than Angela telling Bones he was lying to her?

Another cautious pause. "Angela has been cheated on, in the past. She's done some cheating, too. Okay? So ... you know, you not ... coming home and not answering phone calls. It looks like..." But he doesn't say it. He's just showing the evidence.

Booth pinched the bridge of his nose, tired and paranoid. "Do you think I'm cheating?"

"I don't know what to think," Hodgins hedged. "Just keep trying, okay? Don't give up on her."

Tears spring to his eyes and he looks down at a blurry floor. She's giving up on him, he can feel her pulling away, but somehow Jack Hodgins's encouragement is the hardest thing to hear.

~Q~

* * *

**Author's Note:** Writing Booth in present tense seemed like the right approach because it makes the tone of this much more tense and in-the-moment, just like Booth is throughout the episode. Poor guy. :(

Look for part two tomorrow night, and part three the night after that. There may be a part four if you readers need it to restore your happiness. You'll have to let me know... ;)


	2. Bravery

**Author's Note:** Wow, thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! I'll be spending the evening catching up on thank you notes and PMs.

Without further ado, here is part two.

* * *

~Q~

The letters, _FBI_, are an acronym for Federal Bureau of Investigation, but they are also stand for the motto of the organization: _Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity_. Booth is an honorable man who personifies the FBI motto, but standing up for his principles has never been harder than it is right now.

~Q~

* * *

They aren't talking. Taking the Bugman's suggestion to heart, Booth sends her a text asking to meet for lunch and then holds his breath for the rebuttal. It doesn't arrive. Much to his relief she agrees and meets him at the Diner but he takes it as an ill omen that their usual table is already taken. They take stools at the counter and silence reigns. This is the bright spot of his day, this dim imitation of the lively lunches they used to have.

He doesn't even bother to order fries because she won't steal them.

After exhausting small talk topics, he resorts to business when it seems that's all they have left. "So, how's everything at the lab?"

"We're at an impasse, until we get all of the remains out of the air conditioner. And, reassemble the skeleton." She shrugs, drops her hand in finality. There's nothing to talk about. There's nothing she wants to talk about. She takes a pointed sip of tea, keeping her mouth busy with something other than conversation.

He's starting to wonder why she even came, then realizes that Cam and Hodgins probably pushed her. That fact comforts slightly—at least they're still rooting for a reunion—but that she would need pushing just to have lunch with him has Booth worried. They aren't even fighting. He almost wishes they would fight because then at least there would be signs of life.

"We could talk about Christine," he suggests.

That sparks her a little. Bones smiles as she informs him, "Christine is doing very well. She recognizes all of her colors and I think she's following along when I read to her."

He feels an answering smile emerge at the topic, at the obvious pride she shows in their daughter. She is a good mother, as he always knew she would be because Parker loved her from the start and the way she'd taken to Baby Andy—so protective and devoted within just a day or two—had proved it years ago. But when she stops there, going no farther, he hears what goes unsaid.

It sounds like he isn't there to see it for himself. "Or when I read to her, too," he corrects uneasily. "You're talking as if I'm not even there."

"It feels like you aren't there." He hears it in the soft admission, the abandonment that she feels even when they're in the same room late at night. "Which I realize is a kind of illusion, but that's…." They don't talk. They don't touch. They don't look at each other. And she thinks he's cheating on her.

So, "…that's how it feels."

He's lost, not knowing how to fix them or prove himself to her. The only idea he has is to show that he's listening to her. "You know, like you suggested, Sweets and I are going to check out the victim's apartment."

And because he's proved that he listened, another small thaw has her ask, "How was the interrogation?"

"Not good," he replies immediately, frustrated in this. "The girl's mother turned out to be a big-deal criminal defense lawyer and…" He halts a second, feeling a kinship with the daughter. "She won't let her talk."

Pelant won't let him talk.

Bones tilts her head, reminding him of happier times at meals together. He can see her in his mind's eye, making the same head tilt four years ago when trying to assure him she knew exactly how stupid he was. Or another night, when they'd talked about women being unable to depend on men. Is that what she still thinks?

Today, she chuckles softly as she recognizes her own kinship with the mother. "Protecting her child."

Booth wonders why she can't sense the desperation when he looks at her. Why she can't hear it when he says, "But I think she wants to tell me the truth."

_I want to tell you the truth. _

_God, why won't You help me? Help her hear me._

"The truth is best," she agrees, and then adds softly, "you taught me that."

It puzzles him, because he knows when they met that he had often employed 'little white lies' as a social lubricant or to soothe people, and Brennan had objected. She was starkly honest, always had been. And then he gets it. She's asking him for the truth right now. The door is open, she's giving him the chance to explain because she _needs_ him to.

She needs to understand and yet there's nothing he can say.

The stakes are so high that he's almost nauseated. "Look, we're going to get past all this."

Frustration and fear crackle through her. "I … I don't even know what '_all of_ _this'_ **_is_**!" Her hand clumsily hits her fork, causing a clatter and she trembles for a moment before gathering her composure back into a shaking grip. She's scared.

"Hey," he soothes. "Hey, look. I love you, okay? You love me. Everything's going to be okay." The reassurances, as often as he tries to give them, aren't working any more.

"I know you want me to accept what you're saying on faith because you're a man of faith. But I believe in patterns and sequences, and this sequence doesn't end well unless something disrupts the pattern."

_'She's a scientist. She's looking at the evidence, at the patterns, and right now the evidence is mounting up against you. It's making you look guilty.'_

The only thing that can disrupt it is the truth. But there's a woman talking on a cell phone. One phone call was all it took to terrify him. There's a security camera mounted on the wall. Pelant hijacks security cameras. There's a man working on a laptop computer nearby. He could be watching … Booth feels his heart pounding out twin terrors but the thing he's most afraid of now is the moment she reaches her verdict. The moment of conviction.

The moment she decides to leave him.

~Q~

Angela is short with him over their video conference call because he's asking her to root around a defunct computer for any scraps of information that might remain and she insists there isn't any. "Every single hard drive, memory card, and piece of memory has been removed. Erased."

"Look, just do the best that you can."

"Booth, without memory computers are just toasters. There's no information."

He's losing his temper. It erupts into a sarcastic tirade. "Well, crumbs in a toaster can tell you what someone had for breakfast! Huh? Well, a bagel? Raisin toast? A crumpet?!"

Her flat glare is highly unimpressed. "You want me to look for crumpet crumbs?"

Ridiculous. He's being ridiculous.

"Is there anything else?" She's ready to slam their connection. If this were a traditional phone call his ear would already be ringing with the smackdown.

"Yeah," he snaps. "There is something else."

It's a Skype connection so he leans down into the camera. "Stop telling Bones I'm lying to her."

And she erupts into a caustic snarl. "What's the problem, Booth? What, do you need one more fling before settling down?"

"I'm not a 'fling' kind of a guy. And **_you know that_**!"

She _knew_ him! God damn it, she knew him. That she would poison Brennan against him no matter what sordid suspicions she harbored… it's a machete in his back, thick and deep and the wound won't heal.

"Maybe Brennan isn't as attractive to you now that she's become a mom."

If she would just shut up, just stop putting ideas into Brennan's head. Bones wouldn't imagine infidelity on her own—someone had to put ideas like that into her head. "You're not helping the situation."

He's trying to keep calm because pissing Angela off further is definitely not going to help, but Angela is on the verge of a meltdown. "You're ruining her very fragile heart! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

He's the one who hangs up.

He slams his fist onto his desk and then falls into his chair so he can bury his face into an arm and blot out the pain of betrayal. Angela is defending Bones. The evidence looks like an affair and she trusted Booth to never hurt Brennan so now she's leaping to Brennan's defense like an enraged lioness. If he really was cheating on Bones he would deserve this and more.

But he isn't. A sob shakes his shoulders. He's a grown man crying over the injustice of it.

_"I have never cheated on a woman I've been with."_ He told Bones that years ago and she'd believed him then. Not once had he ever been unfaithful to any of them. And Bones … the thought of being with anyone other than her … he can't even imagine it. Now that he knows what it's like to make love to her, now that he can't live without her. The very thought makes him sick.

He's got to tell her.

He's got to.

_God, tell me what to do._

He goes to Aldo again.

"Father, you gotta help me." It's late and the bar is hopping. Women gyrate against the pole, hips wiggling and breasts jiggling but he doesn't see any of it. All he needs is a minute in the walk-in cooler. "Please, she thinks I'm cheating on her!"

"Now is not a good time. Go home to Temperance."

"I'm begging you." It's the rasping desperation that gets him his way.

Aldo hustles him to the back and they close themselves into the frigid safe haven. "Seeley, I got customers out there. In three minutes they're going to start serving themselves."

"Look, I just have a fast question, Father."

"Aldo."

"Aldo, right." Whatever. He's too frantic to care, wringing his hands, pacing. He would die for her and instead she thinks he's betraying her. How can this happen? "Look, I would sacrifice my own life for Bones, all right? I would kill for her." He would throw his own soul into hellfire for her. "Then why am I not calling Pelant's bluff. Huh?"

How can he let her be so heartbroken when all he has to say is _Pelant_. One damn word that would take away her pain.

"I mean, it's not my fault I put first the happiness of the woman I love."

"That's true," Aldo agrees.

"That's true. Right?" He's hopeful. Yes. Okay. He'll just tell her. Okay. It's a relief.

He'll tell her.

"One question. When Temperance finds out that you put her happiness ahead of the lives of five innocent people, how will she react?"

The voice of reason, almost as if Bones herself were speaking through Aldo. He crashes right back down into misery.

"You knew the answer already," Aldo concludes, "you just needed to hear me say it."

He turns to leave but a parting thought delays his exit back to the bar. "Hey, do me a favor." He's pulled business cards out of his pocket and tucks a few into Booth's breast pocket. "Pass these around to a few of your hard-drinking FBI pals."

He's at the door. "And don't tell any of them that I used to be a priest."

It doesn't occur to Booth that he should wonder why Aldo keeps stuffing his _Paradise Lost_ business cards into his suit pockets. This is the second time he's done it. He doesn't know what to do other than to go home tonight so Bones won't have an even greater reason to distrust him.

~Q~

* * *

**Author's Note:** Timing here is a little messed up (editing in the episode, I mean), but I assume Aldo put those cards in Booth's pocket on purpose to draw one suspicious Temperance Brennan to him, so he can remind her who Booth is. And I think I love him for that crafty little trick. :D

**And in other news:** The rest of this story is complete. I'll post part 3 on Sunday and might be persuaded to finish off with a short post-script for part 4 on Monday morning. How badly do you want it...?


	3. Integrity

**Author's Note:** Wow, thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! :) I am still in the process of catching up on thank you notes and got slammed with a horrid virus, so hang in there if you haven't heard from me yet.

Luckily, this chapter was already finished.

* * *

~Q~

The letters, _FBI_, are an acronym for Federal Bureau of Investigation, but they are also stand for the motto of the organization: _Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity_. Booth is an honorable man who personifies the FBI motto, but standing up for his principles has never been harder than it is right now.

~Q~

* * *

A little bit of improvement warms Booth the following day. Bones joins him when he sets out to arrest Lily's mother, then goes with him again to question Lily's boss where she agrees with his suggestion that the bicycle lock is the probable weapon. Their suspicions are confirmed when she finds traces of blood on it. As Booth cuffs him to lead him away, a confession spills out of him, a plea to Lily that he only murdered that man for her. He did this terrible thing, but, "I did it for you!" Brennan hears it but doesn't know how much Booth's heart is fully in tune with that pain.

He's doing this terrible thing for her.

Brennan goes back to the lab alone, Booth keeps himself busy with confessions and paperwork, and another estranged day passes. He's surprised that evening by Danny Beck appearing in his office.

"Got the guy, huh?"

"Yeah, we got the guy." Why is he not surprised that the CIA already knows about the arrest only a couple of hours later? Booth laughs a little, acknowledging, "Thanks to you."

He knows Danny timed his 'clean-up' for Booth to catch him and 'discover' the CIA links. Danny doesn't make mistakes like that. So it's no surprise either when Danny grins lightly and shrugs. "I didn't do anything."

Then he adds, "I mean, seriously, if anyone asks. I didn't do anything."

"Okay," Booth chuckles conceding the game is still afoot. "What do you want, Danny?"

Because he definitely wants something. Danny is not a giving kind of guy.

"To tell you we owe you one."

"The _CIA_ owes me one?" Disbelief tinges his sarcastic acceptance of favors owed.

"You don't got to put labels on everything, Booth. I said we owe you one? We owe you one." Danny reaches for his hand, giving it a pumped squeeze of solidarity that Booth reciprocates with a shrug.

"All right. You owe me one. Thanks."

"And, you know, there's always a place for you with us, you ever decide to leave this … cute little job you have here." It's condescension wrapped around admiration. Booth is the Special Agent in Charge of the Major Crimes division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation—it's not a 'little' job, unless compared to a grander idea of protecting a nation rather than avenging individuals. Booth does his job very well, (with Brennan's very reluctant help lately), but Danny is implying it's not a lofty enough calling.

Booth begs to differ. This is the only thing he's ever truly felt right about doing, and mostly that's because of Bones. This 'cute little job' is the definition of Seeley Joseph Booth, this FBI is his ideals put into practice. But it's also intricately connected with _her_ and if she leaves, he'll lose heart and this 'cute little job' will lose all of its appeal. He doesn't want to do it without her.

It's starting to look more and more inevitable, however. "Well, the way things are going right now, I might just take you up on that."

He finds Danny watching him expectantly. Knowingly.

Pelant's recent actions (shutting down cellular networks, manipulating stop lights enough to cause massive gridlock in the nation's capital city) couple with connections to Egypt and Booth's fevered mind can't help but note that connotations of domestic terrorism with foreign entanglements are right up the CIA's alley. And they owe him one…. He doesn't know what has just gone down between himself and Danny, but the possibility of his cute little Pelant problem coming to an end at the hands of the CIA is quickly shunted aside.

He doesn't dare to hope.

But Danny nods slowly, making deliberate eye contact before he turns away. "Take care."

~Q~

Booth goes home early enough that Brennan is still awake and dinner is still warm in the oven. It smells like mac and cheese, and her voice calls out to him from the dining table where she is waiting.

"Did he confess?"

"Yeah. He was hoping that no one would be able to identify the body or see the cause of death if he dumped the body into the air conditioning unit." He has come all the way into the dining area now, and sees her sitting there alone at a table set for two. She has set aside a glass of Cabernet (half drunk while she waited) and starts pouring wine into the waiting glass.

Then she turns to him, her face strained and cautious and he knows she's already searching for words.

This is all just a peace offering.

She's trying to be nice about it.

His entire core floods with ice water that hardens into hoarfrost when he looks into her troubled eyes and she says, "Booth, I have to tell you something."

She's handing him wine to dull the pain first.

He panics, flails verbally. "Uh, all right, look, Bones, please, just … you just got to give me a little more time, that's all. Please."

He's thinking of Danny Beck and favors owed by the CIA and maybe in a week or two Pelant will be dead. The CIA, they have ways of making people turn up mysteriously dead. _God please, don't do this to me. Don't take her away from me._

He's begging her, begging God, no, no… He moves closer, mindless panic making him almost unable to hear her when she shakes her head.

But his eyes see a little smile lift the corners of her mouth.

"No, Booth, I'm not…" She shakes her head and trails off.

He's frozen, waiting for the verdict. Everything is in her hands and he's suspended helplessly while she decides his fate. It's only a second that passes, but to Booth it feels time has stopped and his breath has stopped (because he would stop breathing to make her happy and if this is what she wants, he'll die but she'll be happy).

So he waits.

And somehow, the woman who is terrible at reading facial expressions still manages to read his.

The tide changes.

She shakes her head again, a real smile, a soft gust of a reassuring laugh in her breathy voice as she catches on to the frozen core of their misunderstanding. "I'm not leaving you."

He's too dazed (only partially thawing) to feel anything but her warmth as she presses up against him. As she wraps her arms around him, burrows in, her nose seeking the comfort of his neck and her entire body clings around his. His arms lift automatically to enclose her shoulders, to hold her to him, but the rest of his mind isn't there yet.

It's the closest they've been in weeks. She's holding on. Slowly, the heat of hope trickles over his frozen heart, unlocking his limbs enough that he can gather her a bit closer. That he can sigh and breathe (she wants him to breathe, and he'll do anything for her which means that he'll let her decide to stay against all logic and reason). For that moment, he doesn't care why she's holding him, only that she _is_.

That God may have answered that last, desperate prayer.

She isn't leaving him.

Booth's eyes fall closed and he draws her closer, letting himself feel her surrounding him. She's there, she's not going anywhere and he's missed holding her. He recalls Bones telling him once that he shouldn't let her hug him when she got scared, and he'd quipped right back, "I'll just hug you when _I_ get scared." There's a part of him that's still terrified so he hugs her tighter still.

He wants to squeeze tighter, wants to press his face against her and lose himself in her and just let this moment be.

"What I want to tell you," she speaks against his throat at first, but then she pulls away, drawing back even though he is far from ready to release her. "Is that I have absolute faith in you."

Bones doesn't believe in faith. She thinks it's irrational to believe something without evidence to support it, and to be absolute about anything is the most irrational thing she can conceive of. She's a scientist and one thing he knows about science is that (absolutely) nothing is absolute. (Except for Absolute Zero, which is absolutely the only other exception to the rule.) He hears her whisper all of this in his head from years ago, the tail end of another losing debate when she'd insisted that faith was irrational.

"I _trust_ you," she says emphatically.

Something has changed, he's still trying to keep up and figure out what has happened. What this means.

"I know you love me, and Christine, and…" She sighs, almost ashamed. "I'm sorry I lost sight of that temporarily."

He doesn't know what's happened.

She's looking up at him with that same luminous hope from her proposal, the same beautiful shimmer in her eyes that has haunted him as a lost dream. Booth swallows a thick knot of apprehension, fear splicing through him because the last time he saw her looking like this, Pelant did too.

The last time she looked at him with all of her love in her eyes, Pelant struck like a serpent.

He wants to be happy and relieved, but all he can really feel still is terror.

"You're a good man," she assures him, and for one small second he can smile a little. Only for that second, because she immediately, unknowingly, reminds him that this is no time to smile. "You have your reasons and when you can, you'll share them with me."

And she is confident. She knows it, she has absolute faith.

He is still rather stunned by it all, by the about-face. Words won't come because confusion (over this change in her) and fear (over Pelant, over her inability to conceal the fact that she's no longer in pain) have paralyzed him.

Brennan seems to think she owes him more, so softly she apologizes again. "I'm sorry." And there is remorse there, as she is acknowledging how much she's wronged him just by doubting.

But he won't let her take the blame. He stumbles out his own apology, knowing he should have gone home to her every night. It would have prevented much of this. "Look, I'm sorry…." But he can't speak.

He still can't tell her.

She seems to understand at last, telling him what he's been trying to say to her for weeks. "We'll be fine."

He nods, needing her to take the reins and reassure him and when she does … when she grins a sideways tease, his heart thrills with promise. "But next time…" (there's going to _be_ a next time!) "…next time it's your turn to ask me to marry you."

The confident toss of her head seals his fate. He's never loved her more than now. He's already asking her, promising her with his very next breath. (Because she wants him to breathe and he'll do anything for her.) "I will," he promises softly. "As soon as I can, I will."

And now, he has all but implied there's something holding him back. Now, she knows.

Now, she's smiling. "I know." She chuckles.

No poker face.

And he can't tell her to keep up the act because the very act of doing so violates the rules of Pelant's game. The fact that she's smiling, that her low chuckle announces a sweet kiss and their estrangement is ended with an engagement to be engaged … Pelant knows, too.

He's going to know that something tipped her off.

He's going to strike, because that's what serpents do.

~Q~

* * *

**Author's Note:** Not exactly a happy ending... but this is where the episode ended so I'm marking this complete. (Unofficially, I'll add one more chapter on Monday morning to leave us in a brighter spot.)

As for what happens next, I have questions! Is Pelant going to strike? Is the CIA going to take him out? Is Brennan going to hatch a plot now that she might be guessing what is really holding Booth back? Could this be any more exciting...?!


	4. Solidarity

**Author's Note:** So, I think a part four was definitely needed and many of you agreed. Threesquares and dharmamonkey both gave me the idea to end the story this way Saturday morning (although they don't know that!). They both posted stories in answer to a prompt about engagements, and Threequares threw a tiny little mention of a circus and...

...Very minor spoilers for Cheat in the Retreat are contained in the chapter below (nothing worse than what was shown in last week's preview), just in case you're the type to rigorously avoid spoilers of any kind...

I'm unofficially answering the prompt challenge with this.

* * *

~Q~

The letters, _FBI_, are an acronym for Federal Bureau of Investigation, but they are also stand for the motto of the organization: _Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity_. Booth is an honorable man who personifies the FBI motto, but standing up for his principles has never been harder than it is right now.

~Q~

* * *

The atmosphere at home has shifted dramatically over the last few days. Much remains unspoken and Brennan's vow to have faith in him doesn't completely relax Booth, but they both know that everything will be resolved in time. Meanwhile, mild little dust-ups and skirmishes ensue, mostly because Booth and Brennan are strong-willed personalities and the occasional conflict has always been part of their dynamic. Where they had departed from their normal was in the stilted sadness that had taken root and now, it was violently yanked out by the roots and tossed into the fire.

They are pretty much back to normal except for the tension of waiting.

When the next murder investigation makes an undercover role seem necessary, Brennan's eyes dance as they always do. For a woman with no poker face, she does surprisingly well at undercover. She seems to relish it, in fact, and this proposed outing is no exception.

Booth takes Christine to stay with Max, then drops by the Hoover to start the paperwork and requisition their gear and camouflage (that is to say, their ID and costumes). Along with clothing, he selects several pieces of jewelry. The last one is an impulsive choice that rests in his hand and brings a smile to his face. He wonders what she'll say about it.

Returning to the house, he and Brennan expertly pack the borrowed clothes for a few days away. Years of practice, for both of them, have streamlined the packing process into an efficient operation that takes less than fifteen minutes apiece. Booth waits until she has finished zipping her suitcase. When she is about to gather it up to take to their rental car, he halts her with an anticipatory grin. "I got something for you."

"What is it?"

The game he's playing makes his eyes twinkle because he can't wait to see how long it takes her to catch on. "Something old, something new, something borrowed..."

Brennan has heard that old rhyme about bridal traditions before and could probably tell him the folk superstitions behind each component, including why something blue mattered. He's left it out, which causes her to finish the rhyme uncertainly. "You got me something blue?"

"No, nothing blue."

She's getting that bewildered little crinkle now, her blue eyes watching him for another clue. "I guess there's your eyes," he muses fondly, loving the unique color of them and the fact that they can be either blue or green or silvery grey but not today. "Today your eyes are blue."

"Arguably, my eyes are old," she concedes. "Therefore, they can't be new. Or borrowed."

"Too literal, Bones." And just a bit revolting.

She's on a tear now, spilling out folklore he never knew he wanted to know: for example, that his very (formerly) anti-marriage (no use for archaic customs) partner knows this ancient rhyme better than he does. "The rhyme ends with _'and a silver sixpence in her shoe,'_ most likely to promote financial success. Although, a sixpence isn't very much money in today's economy..."

Booth knows she might just go on about this all day. Eager to share his own literal interpretation of the rhyme, he diverts her with a snap of the fingers. "Roxie, come back to me! I was talking about this." Now that he's got her attention, he holds her gaze while reaching for her left hand, pulling his own right out from behind him and slipping something onto the fourth finger (phalanx) before she's fully onto his intentions.

"What is this?" Her hand retracts, her brow contracts into a puzzled query as she looks down onto a familiar-looking gold band, slender and very plain.

Booth watches her study it, feels again that magnetic pull between them. They'd shared the same bed that night, falling onto the tiny single bed in mutual exhaustion after their long day as circus performers. And possibly the sweetest torture he could imagine had been the moment he woke in the wee hours and found her puddled up beside him. He hadn't moved, hadn't wanted to disturb her in any way if it would risk her moving apart or worse, waking up to be embarrassed. Instead, he'd just kept his eyes on the contours of her sleeping face and had breathed her in. She was beautiful in the moonlight. He'd stayed awake to watch her for as long as he could, until sleep finally pulled him under and when he woke the next time, she was up making coffee.

Of course, she doesn't remember any of that. When she also doesn't seem to remember the ring, he explains. "Buck and Wanda were married."

Her eyes fly back up to his as the reason it looks familiar finally registers. Buck and Wanda, married circus stars extraordinaire. It's the only time they've ever been married. Granted, it was the ultimate marriage of convenience, unconsummated, unofficial, but still ... married.

"The last time we played Roxie and Tony undercover, we were 'engaged to be engaged,' but this time we're supposed to be married. Now Tony, he's kind of a cheapskate. So, he figures, since Wanda doesn't need that _old_ ring anymore, maybe he could _borrow_ it and give it to Roxie, because for Roxie to be married to Tony is something _new_."

There are hints flying all over the place, but all she takes away from it is, "You borrowed this from the FBI property room?"

"Yeah." He smirks. "Tony did."

Bones frowns. "But ... won't Wanda want her ring back?"

He gazes deeply into her eyes. "Roxie's just borrowing it until Tony gets his shit together and buys her a proper ring."

"Oh."

A long silence.

She gets it. Brennan looks down at the ring thoughtfully, gives it a spin around her finger.

"So, what do you say, Roxie? You willing to settle for this 'engaged to be engaged' gig?"

Her beautiful eyes begin to shine and she slips into the role as naturally as breathing. "NO, Tony," she whines with a perfect Jersey twang. "I wanna be _married_ to you."

"We're gonna be married, Doll, 'cause that retreat is for _married ... couples._" He brushes his lips against hers softly, skin scraping skin between the words, kissing her the way he wanted to when Roxie first walked toward him wearing that brain-draining dress. Their mouths join again and he's kissing her the way he wanted to when Wanda hopped out of that circus trailer on mile-long legs and Buck suddenly had 207 bones in his body. They press chest to chest the way he dreamed of that night in the rain when her teasing mouth set him on fire, just before she laughed and danced away and left him to cool down in the downpour.

She sighs into him and he draws her head back to nuzzle her ear. "We're going to be married, Roxie."

"Yes we are, Tony." She settles in against him and shivers. "As soon as you get your shit together."

_Yes we are,_ Booth thinks happily, glad she knows it. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

~Q~

The End (but not really)

~Q~

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**Author's Note:** I'm running off to class now. Thanks to everyone for reading!

Thank you especially for the reviews, which I've greatly appreciated receiving while sick. :D


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